Do You Think I’ve Lost My Bloom?

by jkatejohnston

4 November 2013

Dear Max: Notes from the last few days:

The Target Christmas catalog came in the paper this morning. Enzo is poring over it and just informed me, “Barbie’s going high tech.” (She has a laser gun.)


Teresa and Enzo were watching the game yesterday afternoon. Enzo was on the floor with crayons and paper. On one side of the paper he’d printed in big irregular block letters: NFL and on the other side: M CBS.


Teresa coming out of the bathroom. “Do you think I’ve lost my bloom?” She’d been pinching and reading Persuasion. (Perhaps I should explain that one of our words for crap is pinch. It’s derived from the expression “to pinch a loaf.” Or is that obvious?)



Another morning, Teresa emerged from the bathroom, hands on hips, looking proud, “I have—what’s that word for poop?”


“I have defecated!”


Enzo: “I would be totally wasting my time! While I’m doing that I could be reading books about science.” I didn’t write down what came before this, but probably some simple request having to do with picking up his stuff.


Teresa taught Enzo a cheer:

Kick ’em in the left knee, kick ’em in the right!

Kick em in the weenie!

Weenie! Weenie!

We need a touchdown!